Dan Fogelberg - Tucson, Arizona lyrics

Tucson, Arizona Rising in the heat like a mirage Tony keeps his Chevy Like a virgin locked in his garage He brings it out at midnight And cruises down the empty boulevards And he prowls the darkened alleys That snake between the city's thirsty yards The lonely desert skies reflect The anger in his eyes and it is dawn His father died of drinking And left five children sinking with his mom His older brother Bobby Never made it back from Vietnam With high school well behind him He lives at home and works this sh**ty job And he thinks his '60 Chevy Is the only true amigo that he's got His heart is filled with sadness And his soul is like some ugly vacant lot Mary Estelle Hanna Came out from Louisiana for the sun A deal gone bad in Dallas Left her burned and broke and on the run To make the rent and groceries She takes this job at dollar 3.15 an hour Serving shots of whiskey and tequila In some smoky red neck bar And she dreams some day She'll make her way to L.A and become a movie star Tony saw her working He swallowed hard and asked her for a date Mary laughed and answered "I would but every night I'm working late" He said he had some c**aine That she could have if she'd just ride along She said, "What the hell, I may a well I haven't had no fun in so damn long" He picked her up at closing time They pulled out on the road and they were gone Tony's mom got frantic When she found her son had not come home Mary's roommate panicked And called the sheriff from a public phone They asked her lots of questions She tried her best to tell them what she saw And late that night they found poor Mary Lying in some narrow, dusty draw And the coroner reported That she hadn't been deceased for very long Two weeks on they found it Buried to the windshield in the sand There inside lay Tony With a small revolver in his hand The papers simply stated It must have been the d** that drove him mad The neighbors speculated What could make a good boy go so bad? Well, it might have been the desert heat It might have been the home he never had